


Bodyguards need Protection too

by sleapea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Altean bodyguard Lance, BTW, BodyGaurd AU, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galra!Keith, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Support, Short, TW: Pain, altean!lance, but... definitely not a one shot, idk if that's important hahaha, nothing graphic but it's referenced!!!, prince galra keith, this is v self indulgent of me and im sorry, tw: injury, tw: scarring, when i wrote this i imagined keith and lance had semi-grown up together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleapea/pseuds/sleapea
Summary: A feisty & naive Galran Prince Keith vows to protect Lance, his bodyguard, just as much as Lance has protected him.





	Bodyguards need Protection too

**Author's Note:**

> alternative title: me being super self indulgent and writing a basic galtean klance bodygaurd AU 
> 
> escorting my basic ass out as we speak (I posted this on tumblr and never on ao3 and idrk why,,,, but i did it fam)

The wind around him swirled rapid and disturbed, carrying currents of dust, shrapnel, and broken earth along with it. He quickly lifted the top of his scarf, drawing the fabric up until it covered his mouth and nose. His hands instinctively shot up to cover his eyes as he attempted a step forward, stifling another cough as he did. The realization that it would be near impossible to navigate through the swirling debris hit him fast, and within moments, he was already screaming out a name.

His voice sounded distant and broken as it cracked up his throat, quickly mixing with the dry air and burning on his tongue. Although he felt like he might choke with the strain of it, there was no force in existence that could stop him from continuing to call out his name until he _found him_. He blindly began to stagger forward, desperation making his movements reckless and sloppy. The fear and panic edging his tone increased with each shout, and gradually, his voice began to sound as though it belonged to someone else. But it didn’t belong to someone else, it belonged to him, to Keith. Keith, who, no matter how many times he shouted his name into the wind, never received an answer.

“ _Lance!_ ”

_______________

 

For the third time that night, Keith awoke with the remnants of a scream dying on his tongue. He quickly sat up and drew a shaky hand through his hair, attempting to calm his erratic breathing and regain some of his sanity. Each wild pound of his heart sent a jolt of anxiety through his veins, and soon, he realized that the effort would be futile. Within seconds he was scrambling out of bed and tripping toward his bedroom door, only slowing to pry it open and carefully peer outside. With no one in sight, he exchanged the crowded warmth of his bedroom for the open air of the castle, starting his pursuit by tiptoeing out and onto the cool tile lining the floors.

Keith only made it a few corners from his room before he ran into something hard and sturdy, effectively blocking his path. He didn’t have to look up to know what he’d run into, or rather, who.

“Keith.” Shiro’s voice sounded tired and strained. “You’re supposed to be resting in your room.”

“I need to see him.” Despite the fogginess of sleep still clouding his vision, Keith met Shiro’s eyes head on.

Shiro held his gaze for a few moments before breaking to pinch the bridge of his nose. “We’ve been over this,” he sighed.

“I don’t care – I need to see him.”

 

_Visions of dust and dirt flying through the air flashed through his mind, followed by a burning sensation in his throat. The bright light of nearby explosions lit up all around him and his vision blurred, but suddenly, none of that mattered. None of that mattered because he saw him._

 

“Keith.” Shiro planted both hands firmly on his shoulders, holding him steady. Then, he bent down, leaning his head closer until he levelled Keith's gaze. His face softened, as it often did when they both knew that Shiro was right, as Keith's stubborn eyes met him directly. Shiro's voice was hushed as he said “You know I can’t let you do that.”

 

_He didn’t know if he’d shouted, but he’d definitely started running. The wind had blown a small crack in the surrounding debris, and through it, Keith had caught a fleeting glimpse of something bright blue in the distance. Blue wasn’t a common colour in Daibazaal, and neither were bright colours in general. Keith’s entire life had been composed of varying shades of red, purple, and black… when Lance had first arrived at the castle, clad in blue and stunning before the washed out greys of the castle walls, Keith’s entire palette had changed. Lance had picked up a brush and started painting Keith’s life in hues he’d never seen, never even dreamed of, and needless to say, Keith could spot those colours anywhere._

 

“I need to see him.” Keith twisted in Shiro’s hold, voice breaking over the words.

 

_The closer he got to that blue, the closer he got to Lance, the clearer the air became. Soon, he could make out Lance’s entire silhouette through the haze. From there, it all seemed to happen in slow motion._

 

“You can’t.”

 

_As Keith continued to run forward, Lance turned to face him, eyes blowing wide. Keith could hear shouting in the distance, but couldn’t make out who or what it was coming from. As he drew nearer, he could even see the outline of his name as it left Lance’s lips. Suddenly, Lance seemed to close the distance between them, meeting Keith in the middle of the clearing he’d unknowingly run into. But instead of running straight to Keith, he ran slightly to the left._

 

“But _why_?” Keith slumped in Shiro’s grip, shoulders going slack. His head bowed as he stared down at the floor, biting at the corner of his lip and willing himself not to cry.

 

_Lance had run… in front of him?  
Suddenly, there was a violent flash of light, and all at once Keith realized that it had been Lance shouting all this time; shouting at him to stop._

 

“The doctors still have him contained, his injuries were…” Shiro paused, clearing his throat. “…more difficult than yours.” Keith flinched, and Shiro squeezed his shoulders in response.

 

_Lance turned to face him then, knees trembling. They quickly gave out beneath him, and as he stumbled, he grabbed onto Keith’s shirt and dragged him to the ground along with him. In a blur of confusion and panic, Keith found himself being dragged back into the safety of the clouding debris he’d come from by the collar of his shirt. The second they were fully hidden, the hand gripping his shirt slackened, and then Lance was falling on top of him. Keith closed his eyes and braced for impact, but none came. Lance had landed just over Keith, using his elbows as support and his body as a shield. “Don’t move.” Lance’s breathing was ragged as it spread hot against Keith’s throat in quick, uneven puffs._

“Please?” Keith knew that pleading with Shiro was futile, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Tomorrow morning, Keith, we’ll go.” He swung an arm over Keith’s shoulders, drawing him in and beginning to guide him back toward his room. “I promise.”

 

_Lance’s arms began to quake at his sides, and Keith lifted both hands to help support the weight of his chest. He expected to feel the fabric of Lance’s shirt as he did, but instead, his palms met something hot and wet. As he inhaled, the sharp sting of copper hit his nose, and his eyes opened wide. For a single moment, Lance’s intense expression lightened as he met Keith's gaze and smiled down at him. “You idiot.” He whispered. And suddenly, as another blast ripped around them, it went black._

 

_______________

 

Keith stood with his back to Lance, averting his eyes as Lance slipped on the white blouse of his Altean formal wear.

“You know you don’t have to keep doing this.” Lance spoke softly from behind him. In response to his voice, Keith peeked over his shoulder. Lance was fully dressed besides the undone zipper of the blouse at his back, the long strip of exposed skin enough to send colour to Keith’s cheeks.

“Doing what?” Keith turned and walked over to Lance, stopping about a pace behind him. He looked up and into the mirror Lance was facing, catching his gaze in the reflection.

“This.” Lance flourished his wrist in the air as he spoke, keeping his eyes on Keith.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Keith averted his eyes in favour of the small of Lance’s back, where he began to do up his zipper for him.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting dressed on my own,” Lance sighed. “I can take care of myself.”

Keith froze, the zipper in hand only halfway up Lance’s back. Beneath the soft white of his blouse and etched into otherwise smooth, tanned skin was a large, angry scar. The zipper hovered in his hand as he hesitated, unable to draw his eyes from it. Although he could only see a small portion of it now, he knew what it looked like. It took up the majority of Lance’s back, and was spread uneven and violent into his skin, harsh lines twisting and far reaching like the long and pointed limbs of an old tree. Lance remained still and silent as Keith touched the scar with his thumb, lightly brushing the rough skin at its centre.

 

_Keith would never forget the look on Lance’s face when he walked into the medical wing of the castle with Shiro that morning. Lance was lying on his side atop one of the medical beds in the ER, one arm folded beneath his head and the other balled into a fist at his sheets. There were bandages wrapped around his entire torso, and although the busied talk of the medical staff indicated that they had just applied them, small patches of red were already seeping through the white. He heard Shiro as he spoke to one of the staff at his back - they couldn’t put him in a healing pod until they could stabilize his condition and control his bleeding._

_Soon, the noise around him all but faded as he focused on Lance’s face. It was contorted in pain, and his eyes were squeezed shut. His skin was so pale it almost looked white, making the small patches of colour – his swollen and red bitten lips, the harsh blue and purple of the bags under his eyes – stand out in stark contrast. His breathing was rough and uneven, and Keith watched as he struggled to control it as his body heaved in pain with each breath that moved his torso and aggravated his wounds. Distantly, he felt a hand grip his shoulder and lead him forward. He heard Shiro’s voice as it spoke, and he heard his name as it left his mouth. Lance’s eyelashes fluttered as he opened his eyes slowly, looking up at him. Despite how much pain he was in, the second Lance met his eyes, he smiled._ _And it tore Keith apart._ _Even now, despite how much pain he was in, Lance was still trying to comfort him. The resulting feeling of powerlessness that rolled in his gut made him feel sick to his stomach._

Keith let his thumb trace over the scar slowly. His throat tightened as he let himself get swept away in how the pink and white marred his beautiful skin. And as though this weren’t already enough, Keith knew full well that Lance had a matching one on his chest, too.

“ _Keith_ …” Lance spoke softly in protest, but Keith hardly registered his voice.

“Keith.” This time, Lance’s voice was firm. “It wasn’t your fault.” Keith’s thumb stuttered to a halt on Lance’s skin, and he sucked in a shaky breath. Before he could retaliate, Lance was already spinning around.

Suddenly, Lance was facing him. Sometime during his turn, Lance had grabbed ahold of his wrist. Keith swore he could still feel Lance’s skin beneath his fingertips, and Lance squeezed as though he could read his mind. 

“Yes it is.” As he spoke, Keith averted his eyes.

“Keith.” Lance’s voice somehow managed to be both soft and commanding all at once, and he didn’t continue until Keith met his eyes.

“No, it isn’t.” Their eyes were almost level, Lance only about an inch shorter than he was. Lance’s breath brushed hot over Keith’s face as he spoke, Lance closing the distance between them as his tone became more serious. “The attack was sudden - nobody was expecting it. I should have never allowed you to leave my side in the first place, no matter how safe we thought we were.”

“It doesn’t matter. If I had just kept calm and not run into that clearing-” Keith's voice came out quick and harsh, but he paused when he felt Lance squeeze his wrist again, hard.

“It’s my job to protect you. I don’t regret what happened that day.” As he looked into Lance’s eyes, Keith could tell how serious he was. “I’d run into that clearing a thousand more times if it meant keeping you safe.” And as he continued to stare into the clear blue of his eyes, he realized that it was happening again. The bright blue faded into the washed grey of his memories; to when he’d seen Lance under the harsh, fluorescent lights of the infirmary. Lance was still trying to comfort him, _him_ , after all this time and despite all that Lance had already done, and it made him feel sick. He felt the familiar feeling of powerlessness sink deep into his stomach, hardly registering his voice as it cracked and he gasped over his next breath, throat suddenly feeling choked for air. He could feel tears begin to sting at the corners of his eyes, but he willed them away. 

“But who’s going to protect you?” His voice came out strained and raw. “Who’s going to keep you safe? I want to protect you, too.” He watched as Lance’s face softened, and he could feel it as his grip loosened from around his wrist. Lance used his other hand to wipe at the stray tears that Keith had let slip.

“You do more than enough for me, Prince.” And again, he smiled. And it was so sweet, eyes wrinkling at the edges and dimples appearing in his cheeks, that Keith almost believed that he was right. Almost.

“Like… helping me with my zipper!” Lance turned around in a flourish, quickly peeking over his shoulder and up at Keith from under his lashes with a playful smile. Despite himself, Keith let out a tiny breath of laughter. Lance had complete control over him, and he knew it, too. With just a light spin and a look from over his shoulder, he already had Keith unwinding and  melting into the palm of his hand.

“I thought you were perfectly capable of getting dressed on your own?" 

“Who, me?” Lance continued to stare up at him, expression turning innocent. “I don’t recall saying anything like that…” Keith huffed out a breath, louder this time, grinning as he reached forward and finished doing up Lance’s zipper.

For the night, Keith let himself get swept away in Lance’s bright smile and lively chatter. He willed himself to forget about the scars marring Lance's front and back when his bodyguard turned to face him, all bright smiles and carefree laughter. Instead, he let himself get lost in how the pure white of Lance's blouse brought out the blues in his eyes, and how the markings on his cheeks sparked whenever he laughed too hard or blushed in surprise.

But silently, deep down, he made a promise to himself. And that promise was to protect Lance, too, no matter what.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue this,,, but only bc I casually made up an entire backstory to go along w this in my brain as I wrote it,,, for some god forsaken reason idk
> 
> \-- --- --
> 
>   
> If u want to find me elsewhere, click [here](https://linktr.ee/sleapea) for links to my ~socials~ 💕


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